Anime gives me life

now, with everything finally done, the dorm smelled faintly of soap and fabric softener. you were tucked into bed, movie flickering softly on the laptop, zoro half-asleep against you. one arm firmly around your waist, head buried against your chest, his breathing slow and steady—the kind of quiet that makes even your heartbeat feel too loud.

then—thump. loud, sharp. shattering your perfectly built peace.

you sighed, pushing zoro’s arm away, dragging the blanket off, and stomping to the door. you didn’t even think—you just opened it, already mid-glare.

a guy stood there holding a football, grin too smooth to be real. his friend beside him had a phone out, recording.

“uh, are you ladies alright?” he asked, voice dripping with fake charm. you could tell he had practiced this smooth tone for a while, but still failed.

you crossed your arms. didn’t even bother answering—just stared, unimpressed. from head to toe.

then zoro appeared behind you, shirtless, hair messy, eyes dark and sharp like a blade. the air seemed to drop a few degrees.

“uh—hey man, i didn’t mean to disturb. it’s just a trend,” the guy stuttered, taking a step back.

“a trend,” zoro said flatly, voice low, “that nearly broke the door?”

“we were just having fun—”

“take your fun somewhere else before i shove that ball so far in your ass you’ll taste it,” he cut in, tone calm but deadly.

the two boys froze, mumbled a terrified “sorry,” and bolted down the hall.

zoro slammed the door shut, muttering something under his breath before scooping you up and tossing you back on the bed.

“the fuck those idiots think they are,” he grumbled, burying his face in your chest again and unpausing the movie like nothing happened.

you blinked, then started laughing—that low, amused kind that only made him hum sleepily against you. zoro really did hate when people disturbed his naps. especially with you.

and of course, the video went viral on campus—captioned: “just wanted to make a trend, ended up receiving a death threat.”

comments:

— user girl opened that door like she was about to tax their souls 😭

— user her face alone said “you picked the wrong dorm today.”

— user zoro coming out looking like the final boss 💀💀💀

— user next trend idea: letting the mosshead shove that ball

— user not her man appearing half-naked like a summoned demon of rage 😭🔥

— user zoro and his girl waking up and choosing violence every day man

TRAFALGAR D. WATER LAW

you’d been buried in books for hours. papers scattered everywhere, notes highlighted to death, coffee cup long empty. you were so deep into your studying you barely noticed law leaning against the doorway, quietly watching you like he was calculating how much longer you could last before passing out.

“you haven’t moved in three hours,” he finally said, voice low.

“i’m fine,” you muttered, eyes glued to your notes.

he didn’t answer—just walked over, plucked the pen from your hand, and shut the book. “no, you’re not.”

you gave him a weak glare, but before you could argue, he was already guiding you up from the chair. one hand at your back, the other tugging the blanket from the couch. it wasn’t even a discussion—just law doing what law does best: deciding for you when you wouldn’t take care of yourself.

“lie down. i’ll bring you water,” he said, tone final.

you sighed, but didn’t fight it. within minutes, you were half buried under the blanket, head resting on his thigh as he absentmindedly rubbed circles along your arm while scrolling through his phone.

the peace didn’t last long. a thump at the door made you flinch and law’s hand immediately paused.

he stood up without a word, expression unreadable, and opened the door just enough to see two guys—one holding a football, the other holding a phone.

“yo, sorry—wrong dorm, i think,” one of them said with that nervous laugh people use when they know they’re about to get in trouble.

law tilted his head slightly, eyes cool. “you think?”

the boy blinked. “we were just doing a trend, man—”

law’s tone didn’t rise, but the silence between each word cut sharper than a yell. “so your ‘trend’ is disturbing people trying to rest?”

the boy laughed again—weak, forced—until law’s gaze darkened a shade.

“take your ball,” he said, voice like ice, “and your friend. before i show you what a real disappearance looks like.”

they were gone before he even shut the door.

law exhaled quietly, locking it, then returned to you like nothing happened. you were still blinking up at him, half shocked, half impressed.

“they’re gone,” he murmured, sitting back down and brushing his thumb over your temple. “now, where were we? ah. you—resting.”

you couldn’t help a tiny laugh. “you didn’t have to threaten them.”

“i didn’t,” he replied simply, eyes flicking back to his phone. “i just explained the options.”

and of course, the video made its way online. captioned: “just wanted to make a trend… accidentally met the grim reaper.”

comments:

— user bro didn’t even raise his voice and i STILL got scared 😭

— user that “you think?” felt like a death sentence

— user i’d drop out if law ever looked at me like that 😭😭

— user why does he sound like he’s about to perform an autopsy instead of arguing 💀

— user her just standing there in the back all tired and pretty while he handles it 😭💞

PORTGAS D. ACE

you were tucked against him on the couch, half on his lap, half melting into his chest. the night outside hummed soft and quiet, the kind of peace you only ever found when ace wasn’t on the move.

he had one arm slung lazily around your waist, fingers tracing random shapes against your side. every few seconds, he’d press a kiss somewhere—your temple, your jaw, the corner of your mouth—like he couldn’t go too long without touching you.

“you good there, sweetheart?” he murmured, grinning against your skin. “’cause i could stay like this forever.”

you tilted your face up to kiss him properly. slow, a little teasing, the kind that made him smile mid-kiss, when something thumped against the door.

“the hell was that?” ace muttered, instantly alert.

you sighed, about to get up, but he was already halfway there—shirtless, hair messy, the picture of protective irritation. he yanked the door open and found two idiots: one holding a football, one recording.

“oh, sorry man! wrong door!” the guy stammered.

ace blinked, confusion melting into that crooked grin that never meant anything good. “wrong door, huh? funny how that happens after you kick it.”

“it’s just a trend, bro! no harm—”

“yeah? well, next time your ‘trend’ messes with my girl’s peace, i’ll make you go viral,” ace said with a laugh, easy, playful, but the kind that made you wonder if he was serious. (he was.)

the boys didn’t wait to find out. they muttered a rushed apology and bolted down the hall.

ace shut the door, shaking his head with a grin. “kids these days,” he said, turning back to you.

you were staring at him, half amused, half exasperated. “you scared them.”

“good,” he said, flopping back beside you, tugging you against his chest again. “they deserved it for interrupting our break.”

“you mean my break that you forced?”

“same thing,” he murmured, smiling against your hair.

and of course, the video went viral—captioned: “just wanted to make a trend, but the guy who opened the door laughed like he was gonna kill me.”

comments:

— user not him smiling like a maniac the whole time

— user “funny how that happens after you kick it” is CRAZY 😭

— user the way she just stood there behind him all cozy while he handled it ❤️

— user that laugh said ‘i will commit arson for love’ 😭🔥

— user imagine getting death-threatened by a guy who still looks like sunshine

taglist ﹕@lyvhie @spacejip @polarisjisung | if you'd like to join the taglist, fill out this form!

Looking towards the person standing in front of you, you’re quite surprised to see the same face you’ve lost a few hours ago:

“Sanji?”

The man gives you a wide smile, clearly glad that you’re okay and the blast didn’t mess with your head too much. His hold on you doesn’t let up, even when Sanji knows you can stand on your own. Long fingers are digging into your arm right beneath your armpit.

"Fancy meeting you here, gorgeous,” he answers. Despite taking active part in the carnival-turned-carnage, his breathing isn’t laboured. Truthfully, he hasn’t broken a sweat. “Good thing you’re in one piece, ‘cause your boyfriend almost cut my head off."

Your eyebrows furrow when hearing the word ‘boyfriend’. It’s the notion that a head might have been cut off that has your mind trailing towards the only person besides Sanji willing and able to achieve such a feat.

"Who? Zoro?” Whether you’re asking for confirmation or are simply shocked, you’re not quite sure yourself. “He's not my boyfriend,” you add. The sureness of your tone doesn’t stop your face from getting significantly warmer.

Sanji can’t help but smirk. Your sudden nervousness doesn’t escape his attention. "Does he know that?” he asks. The teasing undertone hides behind candid words, almost flying over your head. “I don't think he got the memo."

You were about to ask Sanji for an explanation when a knife flew right in front of your nose. Right, inquiries into your alleged boyfriend can wait a minute or two.

Several fights and close calls later, you see a head of green hair in the corner of your eye. Part of you yearns to admire Zoro’s skill and fluidity but the more reasonable and less lovestruck part wishes to keep your limbs intact. Besides, getting gravely injured just to ask a man if he has feelings for you is… embarrassing. You’re an adult, not a school kid anymore. Those things can wait for the right moment.

Surprisingly, Zoro seems to be of a different mind. The moment you enter his field of vision, he’s calling out to you. His voice cuts through the clashing of swords and the painful grunts of the surrounding battlefield. Fighting his way through the horde of circus pirates, Zoro is making his way towards you. It would be like a scene from a movie, if the risk of actually dying wasn’t equally real. Death, however, doesn’t seem all too interested in the famous pirate hunter. He’s marching on without halting or slowing down, as though he isn’t a person but an icebreaker cutting through the frozen seas.

He calls out to you again, now much closer than he was before. You turn around, only to be met face-to-face with another one of Buggy’s pirates. Before either of you can raise your weapons, something glistens right behind him. In a quite grotesque manner, the pirate splits in half diagonally, along a clean line from his left shoulder to right hip. The corpse falls to the ground, turning brown dirt into a black, dense pulp.

Then you meet Zoro’s gaze. There’s some blood on his clothes but seeing as its a small spatter, it can’t be his. Brown eyes are piercing yours in an almost human way, as though the man is trying to put the beast inside him back in its kennel. It’s both terrifying and beautiful, as all beasts are. You remember Sanji’s words – he could have ended up no better than the dead pirate at your feet, should you turn up with as much as a bruise. Zoro has always been protective of his friends, yes, but there is a substantial difference between offering to die for someone and the willingness to kill anyone for them.

Zoro lets out a gasp that sounds like your name. “Where were you? Are you hu–”

“Are we boyfriend and girlfriend?” you interrupt. Truly, no better time than the present.

The once intense stare suddenly becomes vacant. It would be a hilarious image if the conversation were about anything else. “What?” he asks quietly, not sure if he heard you correctly.

“Right, I should phrase that differently.” As gross as it may be, you kick away the sliced corpse separating you. Zoro stands idly while you step closer to him. His eyes are glued to you, studying even the smallest movement. “Do you think of yourself as my boyfriend?”

The tiniest wrinkle between his dark eyebrows blears his otherwise blank expression. “What kind of question is that?”

Oh, Zoro, you’re really not making this any easier.

“A ‘yes or no’ kind,” you explain. “Unless you want to indulge me with specifics,” you add, shrugging. Although he’s not the kind of person to go on and on about their love for someone, it would be very satisfying to have this calm and collected warrior profess his hopeless yearning for you. Maybe one day.

Zoro swallows nervously, his larynx slightly bobbing up and down. “Then no.” He looks away from your face, pretending to be scanning your surroundings for more enemies. “I don’t even like you like that.”

Zoro’s nonchalant attitude can be heaven-sent but right now it’s the biggest tell he could have. For a man so unbothered, he seems awfully nervous.

“That’s not what Sanji said.”

The man meets your gaze again, only to roll his eyes. Of course, Sanji was going to milk that situation as much as he could. He saw Zoro lose his grip on emotions, making Sanji believe that he sees you as more than a friend. When, obviously, that isn’t true. You’re his good friend, that’s all.

“According to him, you almost cut his head off when he showed up without me,” you continue.

His fist flexes around the sword. A sudden surge of anger makes him want to punch holes in brick walls. Sanji is a lucky man not to be in the vicinity, or Zoro might do well on his threat. The swordsman can only do what he does best: look for a ‘friendly’ explanation of all the lovesick things he’s doing for you.

“Because he’s irresponsible,” he explains. At least in his head, it makes sense. “This place is crawling with Marines and pirates, so we should stick together.”

Your lips curl into a smirk. “Then maybe you should be the one keeping an eye on me.”

“I’m not your babysitter.”

As though he’s uttered some ancient prayer, you suddenly found yourself surrounded by more pirates. Your first thought is to turn to Zoro, come up with a strategy. It appears that he already has a strategy, a quite simple one at that: defeat everyone. His sharp swords slice through skin at a terrifying speed, as well as depth. You find it almost impossible to keep up with him but that’s hardly a concern. Zoro parries attacks before you notice them. His large frame stands like a defensive wall between you and Buggy’s goons. A few times, he’s pushed you away right before dodging another swing of a deadly weapon. Even if you wanted to help him in the fight, you couldn’t. And yet Zoro was the one who claimed not to be your babysitter just a few minutes ago.

When the pirates joined their unfortunate, sliced friend on the blood-soaked dirt, you continued the conversation:

“Yes, you’re not a babysitter, because I’m not a baby. Yet you always hover around me, even when I don’t need help.”

Zoro meets your gaze. There’s something strangely intense in the way he’s looking at you, as though he’s been itching to reveal long-hidden thoughts. Whatever dilemma he's solving in his head, he decides to fight his urge a little longer. The ferocious burn of his gaze dims, it’s place taken by Zoro’s typical blankness. The previous passion, however, still lingers in those brown eyes, almost imperceptible to anyone else. A famed warrior is losing a battle against himself.

“You’re slow and weak,” he states. Zoro pretends to ignore the blood and dirt sticking to the sais in your hands. Deep inside, he’s already studied the evidence of your fighting and sustained injuries. His ‘friendly’ feelings convince him that the result is completely his fault. “I’m just making sure you don’t die.”

“But you were more than willing to kill Sanji if something happened to me,” you point out.

The man doesn’t as much as blink while delivering you his judgment. “I don’t like him.” The heaviness of his tone reveals that there is much more to that statement than simple dislike of someone’s personality. It is the disdain for what someone represents with themself, the amalgamation of traits that Zoro lacks and how he thinks others view Sanji; it isn’t a dislike of who Sanji is, but who Zoro isn’t and can’t be. Some would call it ‘jealousy’ but Zoro can’t be jealous. He would have to be in love with you. How preposterous!

“So you do like me?”

Zoro sighs heavily. He’s clearly not enjoying the direction in which this conversation is going. You’re trading way too close to what he’s unwilling to admit even to himself. “I guess you’re alright,” he mumbles after a moment of silence.

You can’t help the frustrated groan brewing in the back of your throat. Zoro gives you a questioning look. Is his thinking you’re ‘alright’ such a tragedy?

“I’ve given you numerous chances, Zoro,” you say. The wrinkle between his eyebrows only deepens. “Help me out a little or do I really have to do everything myself?”

“What are you–”

Zoro doesn’t get the chance to finish his question. Your lips meet his in a clumsy, albeit passionate kiss. His moment of surprise dissipates quickly as he answers your pecks with even more ferocity. Zoro’s arm circles your waist much too low to be considered ‘friendly’ in any capacity. He pulls you closer to himself, chests colliding in a long-overdue embrace. The two of you crane your necks in a quite coordinated way, constantly searching for a deeper, even more intimate, angle.

Little do you know, Sanji and Nami witnessed the entire conversation. They may have been too far to hear your words but definitely close enough to see the searing kiss that befits a bedroom more than a battlefield. Nami is finally freed from the frustration of seeing your ‘friendship’ with Zoro. Truthfully, if this farce had gone on one day longer, she was willing to cause a scene, reveal your feelings for each other and leave you to deal with the aftermath. Her moment of serenity doesn’t last long, however. Sanji, a teasing smirk adorning his face, suggests that maybe they should follow suit. Nami only lets out a frustrated groan and mumbles something about ‘ruining a nice moment’.

______

Zoro bites his tongue and clenches his jaw when you announce that you’re going to stick with Sanji and Luffy in Loguetown. He was going to casually tell you to keep him company and not get into trouble, a plea disguised as an order, but it wouldn’t make sense anymore – he’d have to be your boyfriend, such a high-sounding title, to demand every second of your time. Because he is definitely not in love with you, Zoro simply refuses to comment on the arrangement. His silence earns him a questioning look from Nami but he pretends not to notice it. He’s good at ignoring things.

For a man who is not in love, Zoro thinks about you a lot. Although ‘a lot’ is an adorable euphemism. Ever since you disappeared into the crowd with Sanji and Luffy, Zoro’s thoughts have been occupied solely by you. Whenever his eye is caught by something in the shop window, he wonders whether you’d like it. Would you gush about the dress? Say a mean quip about a rather interesting top hat? Then his thoughts become more grim. You’re somewhere out there, going for a stroll in a fish market with Sanji by your side. Is the cook minding his manners or being sleazy as always? What cheesy line has he thrown at you this time?

Zoro’s eyebrows furrow. His face becomes almost the same colour as his hair. What if Sanji’s sleaziness is working?

The man takes a deep breath and clenches his jaw again. Why would he be even thinking about Sanji trying his chances? It’s not like Zoro is your boyfriend and has any right to be jealous about other men being interested in you. He’s not even in love with you, so why should he care about Sanji’s constant flattery?

He manages to push those thoughts away but they remain with him, lingering in the back of his mind. If he’s not careful, he might think about you and Sanji again. Perhaps there’s another, ‘friendly’, explanation…

When Zoro arrives at the square, two new swords adorning his hip, he immediately notices the absence of something. Well, to be exact, it is the absence of someone – you’re nowhere to be seen. Sanji appears to be perfectly content with holding a rather large fish as though the meat is going to be tonight’s date, not dinner. Whether it’s you being gone or Sanji having no care in the world, Zoro’s anger reaches the boiling point. Of course, it’s not because the girl he’s in love with seems to be gone and, possibly, in danger. He’s just looking out for his friend, while the blond dishie boy can’t split his attention between fish and people.

Zoro crosses the distance to Sanji in long, hastened strides. "Where is she?" he asks in a low voice. Despite appearing collected, there’s a sense of urgency in the way he speaks. This is the sound of a man holding on to his sanity by a thread. The question is when, not if, reason leaves him entirely.

Sanji, too busy admiring the fish in his arms, doesn’t notice Zoro’s angered tone. "Around,” he answers. The man lifts his gaze from the meat and looks to his right, then left side. "Somewhere…” His smile drops when he realizes that you’re not next to him. Sanji can’t quite remember when was the last time he saw you.

"This town is crawling with Marines, you idiot,” Zoro drones out. He gets even closer to Sanji. If it wasn’t for the fish in the cook’s arms, the two man would be touching foreheads. Something dark stirs in Zoro’s eyes; something that betrays all they lies he’s been telling himself. Only love can breed such anger. “How could you lose her?”

Sanji stares back at Zoro with apparent confusion. Since when is the swordsman so hot-headed? "Oi, pipe down, mosshead, will ya? She's a big girl, she'll manage.” It doesn’t escape his attention how the furious look in Zoro’s eyes only intensifies. Then, as if suddenly recalling long weeks of shared travels, Sanji completely understands the emotional outburst. His confusion subsides only to be replaced by a mischievous smirk. “Besides,” he begins in a teasing tone, “you should be the one looking after your girlfriend."

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Zoro answers, a little too quickly. The deadpan delivery rids his words of any credibility. He appears like a child, who just recently learned that they can lie. While trying too hard to sound honest, they give away their deception entirely.

Sanji’s smile only grows. He’s very much amused by Zoro’s poor attempt at hiding the truth. Weighing his chances of being skewered on a sword, Sanji decides to get under the other man’s skin just a little more:

“So you won’t mind if I pay her a little late-night visit?”

In a flash, Zoro grabs the collar of Sanji’s shirt. The blond man’s smirk doesn’t falter. It’s as if he’s been expecting such a reaction. Even more – he wanted to see it. The truth is, Sanji is counting on Zoro conducting a smidge of introspection to accept his fairly obvious affection for you. Maybe if the swordsman realizes that most people wouldn’t throw hands at others by the tiniest suggestion that their friend is unaccounted for, he’ll finally understand that the flutter of his heart is not excitement or nervousness.

Before Zoro can actually skewer Sanji, Nami steps in. “Now’s really not the time, boys.” She gives each of them a stern look and both of them know better than to defy her at that moment.

Although Zoro knows that Nami is right and he can set the record straight with Sanji after you’re safe and sound, he doesn’t let the cook have the last word. "If something happens to her, you'll be the first person I try my new swords on,” he says. It’s not a threat, as much as it is a warning; Zoro is not trying to scare Sanji, he’s simply informing him about the natural consequences of his actions.

Zoro lets go of Sanji’s shirt. His angered gaze lingers on the other man for a moment longer, before he turns around, ready to head back into the bustling city in search for you.

"Save some of that energy for the missus,” Sanji calls out.

The man stands still, hand gripping one of the swords. He looks over his shoulder, debating whether Sanji’s quip deserves an answer. As much as Zoro itches to respond to the annoying dishie, his mind is set on a different goal. Somewhere out there, you might be in danger. Whether its Marines or other pirates, a malevolent pair of hands could be reaching for something it has no right to touch. The thought makes his skin crawl.

With a sense of urgency in his step, Zoro leaves his crewmates at the town square. 

the sun was already up, as you made your way across the deck of the merry. zoro was still in his sentry soldier stance, guarding the ship from whatever he had envisioned the biggest threat to be. nami was scolding usopp about using her pen to scribble down ideas, and sanji, judging by the sweet scent wafting through the air, was cooking lunch.

“looking good, zoro. if you hadn’t acknowledged my presence, i really would have thought we got a new statue to decorate the ship.”

zoro eyed you, the slightest hint of amusement on his face, “i see you’ve finally woken up. nice of you to join us today, you almost missed the part of the day when the sun isn’t the highest point.”

“perfect timing to sunbathe…”

“i beg you not to.”

“can’t stand the sight?”

“i can’t stand the way the other two act around you…”

at this you smiled to yourself and crossed your arms, “they’re cute. it’s rather amusing…”

“to you.”

“you could ease off our poor captain… sanji at least can take it.”

“no he can’t!” you snorted, “the first time i flirted back at him, he collapsed.”

this made zoro smile, looking more amused than you had ever seen him, “i know. but it never gets old…”

you grinned at him, shaking your head slightly. you had formed some kind of odd friendship with zoro. you had bonded over the stupidity of most people and barely attainable aspirations. you nudged him once as you brushed past him and he acknowledged you with a non irritated glance.

“he was looking for you, by the way.”

“sanji?”

“probably. but no…”

you smiled to yourself, despite the attempt you had really made not to get attached, “where is he?”

“his usual spot…”

you started up the curved horns of the ram’s head, but you didn’t make it far before there was an enthusiastic inhale and a head appeared over the edge. “there you are!”

“captain…” you smiled up at him and tried to remember when they stopped being forced and only an act.

each time you addressed him as captain, luffy swore he malfunctioned just a little bit. he pulled you the rest of the way up, dragging you directly into his lap like he forgot there were others around.

you hummed contently, “good morning…” what you had meant as a quick greeting kiss, luffy always escalated. he pulled you closer, kissing you with the fervor of a man that had not, in fact, seen you eight hours previously. you tilted your head slowly as luffy traced down your neck. you put a hand on his chest, steadying him with a breathy laugh.

“luffy—“

“hmm?” he pulled away from you slowly, eyes glossy and pupils blown.

“let me at least eat first…”

“oh, great idea! i could go for seconds!”

you eyed him in amusement, huffing slightly as he dragged you down the figurehead and towards the gulley. “good morning, beautiful. i was wondering when you’d show up… luffy was wandering around like a lost puppy waiting for you.”

luffy gave you an innocent smile, blushing slightly.

it hadn’t always been like this. you had no intention of falling for the captain at all, or forming any kind of romantic relationship. you had heard of a crew going to the grand line and taken your opportunity. sanji, tending the bar at the time, had told you everything with only one coy smile to him. you had taken one look at the crew and rethought your odds greatly– but you had been proven wrong again and again and the straw hat crew had turned your entire world on its side.

even the captain seemed to be fond of you from the beginning. luffy was always checking on you, always asking for you specifically to accompany him when off the ship. it had originally made it easier to make more requests, it had been easier to get anything you needed— though anyone on the ship wouldn’t have hesitated to make sure you were comfortable and taken care of— and it was even easier to actually fall for him.

the small smiles that got you anything, the slight brush of his arm that had him stopping whatever he was doing and giving you his full attention… it had shifted to something beyond just an end goal— you had wanted to be around him. you wanted to greet him before anyone else… you wanted those few touches to linger and shift into something else.

you still felt guilty— dragging him along on whatever self serving agenda you had. but then it had become real and you were more scared than you had ever been. because that wasn’t supposed to happen. you were never supposed to stay with this crew… you were never supposed to fall for the captain in a straw hat, but now that’s all you wanted.

you had told luffy once, on the quiet of the ram’s head, that you were sorry. you hadn’t meant to use him and that you promised now it was real.

luffy just looked over at you with those constant soft eyes, the smallest smile on his face, “i know that. at the time i just thought i was so lucky to spend time with you. i knew you would never actually go for someone like me… but then the more time i spent with you, the more i realized you were perfect for me. and you were always meant to be here with me.”

shit.

you had cried then.

and every wall you had put up and every brick you had placed to be independent and on your own shattered. because you wanted him. you wanted to be with the captain of the straw hats. you wanted to be by his side when he found the one piece, more than you ever wanted anything.

it was impossible to hide from him, you learned quickly. he was always there— circling you, looking out for you, telling you what was wrong when you hadn’t even been able to identify it yourself. horrifyingly, you fell for him fast. he defended you in arguments even against zoro, he had protected you on more than three occasions, as if it was just the only thing that had ever crossed his mind to do.

you fell hard. and he loved you with every bit of himself, just like he did everything else. sometimes he was dizzying, sometimes he took your breath away just by the sheer force of him—

“are you alright?”

a hand settled on your shoulder as you leaned against the barrier, elbow brushing against the orange tree. you glanced over at the soft brown eyes under the familiar black curls.

“i’m good, luffy… very good.”

“you were thinking about something…”

it wasn’t a question.

“you.”

this made luffy grin like a kid on their birthday, overlooking their stash of presents. “i like hearing that…”

you smiled to yourself and let your head fall on his shoulder. his hand was there immediately; pulling you closer, grabbing you, always acting as if he hasn’t seen you in years. you placed a delicate kiss under his jaw and he pulled you fully into his lap with a grin.

“oi, lovebirds! remember we can see you.”

“ah, i think it’s charming… look at how pathetically whipped our captain is. if his eyes could be heart shaped i think they would be.”

“sanji, not everyone is as hopelessly romantic as you.”

“and yet she landed with luffy and not me…”

you smirked to yourself, glancing over your shoulder at sanji, “are you jealous, gorgeous?”

sanji muttered a curse under his breath as you batted your eyelashes with a grin. he still couldn’t handle female attention— and you still thought it was great fun to mess with him.

“sanji!” luffy huffed, crossing his arms and pouting, “stop flirting with my girlfriend!”

sanji gaped, stammering over protests, “i— i wasn’t! i wasn’t, luffy! she—“

luffy snorted, cackling like it was the funniest joke in the world. sanji cursed again, looking at you like you were responsible for his constant torment and verbal assaults.

you smiled innocently, eyes sparkling mischievously. zoro was nearly as amused as you; always thoroughly enjoying jokes at the cook’s expense.

“i don’t see why you’re laughing, mosshead! she tried flirting with you, too! you just are broken or something!”

zoro snorted, smirking in even more amusement, “i happen to remember that i was the first one she tried fighting…”

“usopp was the easiest. i think he was too easy… he was tripping over his own jaw when she winked at him.”

nami rolled her eyes, glancing between you and luffy, “for all the torture she put you boys through, i don’t think she planned on falling for that one.”

sanji grinned, “she certainly didn’t. i would have been the obvious choice…”

“oh, yes. the blond haired blue eyed cook.”

“well it wouldn’t be the mosshead!”

zoro snorted and luffy had reappeared to shove sanji in the face with an irritated expression. his overprotective jealousy was rather adorable to you. his possessiveness when any male gaze was on you was more amusing to the crew than his love for food— until it was directed onto them.

“luffy, be nice to sanji. he really tried…” you winked at sanji playfully and sanji huffed. you turned your attention back to luffy, fingers sliding up the space of his stomach between his unbuttoned shirt, “he just couldn’t compete with brown eyes and black curls…”

luffy melted into you, tensing and breathing in slowly, eyes dilating as if hit with an adrenaline shot. he leaned in towards you, eyelids heavy and mouth parted just slightly; now looking remarkably like he was drugged or in a trance.

you grinned up at him, looking innocent despite your hands on either side of his shirt. luffy’s eyes softened, though there was still that slightly wild look about him. you placed a quick kiss on his jaw and his smile grew. he put his hand on his hat, like he always did when you kissed him— like he was preparing to be knocked off his feet.

“the hair, huh?” luffy’s eyes sparkled, smiling softly with the faintest teasing expression. you smirked faintly, tilting your head, “among other things.” you straightened his shirt that you had messed up, smiling up at him.

“you’re still happy here?”

you paused, as if offended by the question.

“with me? you don’t regret it? you’re still…”

“luffy.” you turned to face him fully, “i plan on following you to the end… until you find the one piece and become king of the pirates…”

“or until you’re sick of me…” he said it like he believed it.

you shook your head, “no. i think we’ll both be old and grey and retired on a beach somewhere before that happens…”

luffy beamed, seeming to stand straighter and get closer. he kissed you again and there was collective groans from the crew. they had thought— perhaps hoped— that the pda and luffy being all hands and puppy eyed and pathetic for you would be a phase you would grow out of.

The days following your recovery on Drum Island were both a blessing and a curse. While you were grateful to be alive and back among your crewmates, you found yourself in an entirely new predicament—one that had nothing to do with physical wounds but everything to do with the chaotic state of your heart.

Luffy had become your shadow.

It started subtly enough. On your first day back on the Going Merry, you'd woken up to find him sitting cross-legged outside your cabin door, chin in his hands, watching you sleep through the crack in the doorway.

"Luffy?" you'd mumbled, rubbing your eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Making sure you're still breathing," he'd replied matter-of-factly, as if this were the most normal thing in the world.

You'd laughed it off then, but as the days passed, his vigilance only intensified. He followed you everywhere—to the kitchen for breakfast, to the deck for morning stretches, to the bathroom (until Sanji and Zoro physically restrained him). He insisted on helping you with the simplest tasks, like tying your shoes or climbing the rigging to adjust the sails, his rubber arms wrapping around your waist "just in case you feel dizzy."

The crew found it both amusing and exasperating.

"Captain, she's not made of glass," Nami sighed one afternoon as Luffy tried to spoon-feed you soup. "She's recovered."

"But she almost wasn't!" Luffy protested, his lower lip jutting out in a pout. "Kureha said she almost died. I can't let that happen again."

You appreciated his concern, truly. But his constant hovering was driving you to distraction—and not just because of the lack of personal space. Every time his fingers brushed yours, every time he threw an arm around your shoulders, every time he flashed that brilliant, unguarded grin in your direction, your heart did a complicated little flip that left you breathless and confused.

You were falling for your captain.

Hard.

The realization had hit you like a physical blow two nights ago, as you'd stood on the deck under the moonlight, watching him sleep in his hammock. His face, usually so animated and expressive, was peaceful in repose, his lips slightly parted, his hat resting on his chest rising and falling with each breath. And you'd thought: I almost lost this. I almost never saw this face again. And the sheer terror of that possibility had been followed by an even more terrifying certainty: you were in love with Monkey D. Luffy.

An idiot. A rubber-brained, meat-obsessed, emotionally clueless idiot who, despite all evidence to the contrary, somehow held your entire world in his hands.

"What's wrong with you?" Zoro asked one evening, finding you staring moodily at the horizon. "You've been sighing every five minutes for three days."

"Nothing," you mumbled, turning away so he couldn't see the flush on your cheeks. "Just thinking."

"About Luffy?" he guessed, his one good eye narrowing perceptively. "Because he's been thinking about you. Constantly. It's getting annoying."

You groaned and dropped your head into your hands. "Is it that obvious?"

"To everyone but him," Zoro confirmed with a snort. "Which is, frankly, impressive."

The crew had noticed. Of course they had. You and Luffy had always been close, but this was different. This was... something more. And while you weren't ready to admit it out loud, your behavior had changed. You found yourself seeking him out, your eyes automatically finding him in a crowd, your laughter coming a little easier when he was near.

And Luffy, for his part, seemed completely oblivious to the shift in your feelings. He was just... Luffy. Overprotective, clingy Luffy, who saw you as something precious that had almost broken and now needed constant supervision.

"You're being ridiculous," Nami told you later that night, as you helped her with navigation charts. "Just tell him how you feel."

"And say what?" you gestured wildly with your compass. "Hey, Captain, I know you're mostly interested in adventure and meat, but I've developed this inconvenient romantic attachment to you that's making it hard to breathe when you're near me?"

Nami blinked. "Well, when you put it like that..."

"Besides," you sighed, slumping against the navigation table. "He doesn't see me that way. I'm his crewmate, his friend, his responsibility. Not... not someone he'd want to kiss."

"You don't know that," Nami said gently. "Luffy's not complicated, but he's not simple either. He feels things deeply, even if he can't always put them into words."

You shook your head. "It's better this way. The crew is finally back to normal. I don't want to mess that up."

But as much as you tried to convince yourself, your heart refused to listen. Every time Luffy laughed, every time he reached for your hand "to make sure you don't fall," every time he looked at you with that fierce, protective light in his eyes, you fell a little deeper.

The breaking point came a week later, during a fierce storm that had the Going Merry tossed about like a toy in a bathtub. The waves crashed over the deck, the wind howled through the rigging, and rain fell in blinding sheets. You were helping secure the sails, your fingers numb and clumsy from the cold, when a particularly large wave sent the ship lurching violently to one side.

You lost your footing, sliding across the slick deck toward the railing. Before you could even process what was happening, Luffy was there, his body pressing yours against the mast as the ship righted itself. His arms wrapped around you, his face inches from yours, rain dripping from his hair onto your cheeks.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice tight with concern.

You couldn't speak. All you could do was stare at his lips, at the water droplets clinging to them, at the earnest worry in his eyes. And then, without thinking, without meaning to, you leaned in and kissed him.

It was brief, clumsy, and utterly perfect. His lips were warm and soft, tasting of salt and rain and something uniquely Luffy. For a moment, he kissed back, his arms tightening around you. Then, as suddenly as it began, it was over. He pulled back, his eyes wide with shock.

"Wow," he breathed, his expression unreadable.

And then he grinned. That wide, brilliant, Luffy-grin that made your heart do somersaults.

"Wow," he said again, and then he was kissing you back, properly this time, his lips moving against yours with an enthusiasm that was purely Luffy.

When you finally broke apart, both breathless and drenched, you couldn't help but laugh. The storm still raged around you, the crew still shouted orders, but in that moment, it was just the two of you, standing in the circle of each other's arms.

"I've wanted to do that for a while," you admitted.

Luffy's grin widened. "Me too! I just didn't know how. And I was worried you'd get sick again if I distracted you."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Oh, Luffy."

"Does this mean you're not going to die anymore?" he asked, his expression suddenly serious.

"I'll do my best not to," you promised.

"Good," he said, nodding firmly. "Because I have a feeling kissing you is going to be my new favorite adventure."

And as he leaned in to kiss you again, you knew with absolute certainty that you were right where you were meant to be—caught in the storm, wrapped in the arms of your captain, your heart finally at peace.

The crew's reaction, when they finally noticed, was everything you could have expected and more.

"FINALLY!" Usopp shouted from across the deck, pumping his fist in the air. "I was wondering how long it would take you two!"

"Took them long enough," Zoro muttered from his spot by the helm, though he was smiling faintly.

Sanji swooned dramatically, hearts practically exploding from his eyes. "Oh, what a beautiful development! My dear navigator-slash-warrior and our esteemed captain! I must prepare a celebratory feast of love!"

Nami just shook her head, a fond smile playing on her lips. "About time," she said, and you knew she was talking about more than just the kiss.

As the storm began to subside, leaving behind a calm sea and a rainbow stretching across the horizon, Luffy took your hand, his fingers lacing with yours. His hat sat firmly on his head, but for the first time, it felt like you were the one wearing it—a symbol of his trust, his protection, and now, his heart.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft.

"Hey," you replied, squeezing his hand.

"Ready for the next adventure?" he asked, his eyes bright with excitement and something deeper, something that made your heart skip a beat.

"With you?" you smiled. "Always."

And as the Going Merry sailed toward the sunset, you knew that whatever came next, you'd face it together—no secrets, no fears, just love, laughter, and the endless promise of adventure.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

The wind on Drum Island was a physical entity, a malevolent spirit that sought to burrow through your layers of clothing and freeze the very marrow in your bones. It howled a mournful tune across the jagged, unforgiving peaks of the Rockies, a sound that mirrored the growing despair in your heart. Each step was a monumental effort, a negotiation between your will to move forward and your body’s screaming demand to stop.

You were dying. You knew it with a certainty that was colder than the biting air.

It had started as a simple mistake, a moment of carelessness during a skirmish in a port town a week ago. A rival pirate crew, drunk and belligerent, had picked a fight. In the chaotic mess of flying fists and clashing steel, you’d taken a shard of broken bottle to your side. It was a deep, ugly gash, but at the time, it had seemed manageable. You’d cleaned it, wrapped it tightly with a strip of cloth, and pushed the throbbing pain to the back of your mind.

Nami was sick. That was the only thing that mattered. Her beautiful face was pale and drawn, her body wracked with a fever that made her tremble uncontrollably. She was the reason you were all on this frozen hell-hole of an island, the reason you were scaling this impossible mountain. Your own injury was a footnote, an inconvenience you refused to let become a liability.

"Almost there! I can see a castle!" Usopp’s voice, usually so full of bluster, was thin with relief and exhaustion.

You forced your head up, your vision swimming. Through the haze of your fever, you could see it: a fantastical, Dr. Seuss-like structure perched precariously on the highest peak. It looked like a dream, a mirage. Hope surged through you, a fragile, fleeting thing.

"Just a little further, Nami-san," Sanji panted, his ever-present cigarette clenched between his teeth as he struggled to keep pace.

Zoro was ahead, a stoic silhouette against the grey sky. Nami was slumped over his shoulder, unconscious and limp. He hadn't complained once, hadn't slowed his pace, his determination as unyielding as the mountain itself.

You tried to match his stride, to be just as strong. But your body was betraying you. The wound in your side was no longer just throbbing; it was a seething, molten core of agony. With every step, every breath, you could feel the infection spreading, a poison crawling through your veins. Your head pounded with a sickening rhythm, and the world tilted and swayed like the deck of the Going Merry in a storm. You were dizzy, so dizzy, and a cold sweat slicked your skin despite the freezing temperature.

You glanced down at your side. A dark, wet stain was spreading across your shirt, stark and terrifying against the muted colors of your clothes. You’d re-bandaged it this morning, using the last of your clean cloth, but it was already soaked through. The smell was faint but sickeningly sweet, the scent of decay.

No one had noticed. They were all focused on Nami. You were glad. You didn't want their pity or their concern. You were a member of the Straw Hat crew. You were strong. You would endure this.

The path grew steeper, the loose scree of the mountainside threatening to give way with every step. You reached out, your hand trembling, to grab a rock for support. Your fingers, numb and clumsy, closed around it. For a second, you felt stable. Then, the rock shifted.

Panic, cold and sharp, lanced through you. Your foot slipped, finding no purchase on the loose gravel. The world lurched violently, the sky and the ground trading places in a nauseating blur. You were falling. You were going to tumble back down the mountain, a broken, useless heap.

A gasp escaped your lips, a sound of pure terror.

And then, an arm, impossibly strong and yet strangely elastic, shot out and wrapped around your waist. It yanked you back with a force that knocked the air from your lungs and sent a fresh, blinding wave of pain from your side. You were slammed against a solid, warm body, your head spinning.

"Whoa there! You okay?"

Luffy’s voice was right beside your ear, his usual boisterous cheer replaced by a tight, concerned edge. He had you pinned securely against him, his rubbery grip an unbreakable cage. His other hand was anchored to a rocky outcrop above you, holding you both steady.

"Fine," you gasped, the word tasting like a lie. "Just... lost my footing."

You tried to push yourself upright, to prove you were okay. But your legs, your traitorous, useless legs, wouldn't cooperate. They gave out from under you, folding like paper. The world went black at the edges, the sounds of the wind and your crewmates' voices fading into a distant hum. The last thing you saw before the darkness finally swallowed you whole was Luffy’s face. His wide, carefree grin was gone, replaced by an expression you had never seen on him before: raw, unadulterated panic.

Consciousness returned slowly, like the tide coming in. The first thing you registered was a gentle, rhythmic rocking. The sea. You were on a ship. The second thing was the smell. It wasn't the familiar, comforting scent of salt, wood, and the sea, but the clean, sharp, antiseptic smell of a hospital.

You blinked your eyes open, expecting to see the wooden beams of the Going Merry's infirmary. Instead, you were staring at a clean, white ceiling. Soft, heavy blankets were tucked around you, and a cool, damp compress rested on your forehead. Your side ached, but it was a dull, distant throb, a clean pain that spoke of skilled medical attention. The searing fire was gone.

You tried to sit up, but a sharp, pulling sensation made you wince and fall back against the pillows with a soft groan.

A shadow fell over you. Luffy.

He was sitting in a chair beside your bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his gaze fixed on the floor. He wasn't bouncing his leg, wasn't fidgeting with his hat, wasn't chattering about meat or adventure. He was just... still. The stillness was more unnerving than any tantrum or outburst. It was wrong.

"Luffy?" you croaked, your throat dry and scratchy.

His head snapped up, and his eyes, normally so bright and full of life, were dark and turbulent. They swirled with an emotion you couldn't quite name—it was too complex to be just anger. It was a storm of fear, hurt, and something that looked terrifyingly like betrayal.

"You're awake," he said. His voice was flat, devoid of its usual musical lilt.

"Yeah... thanks." You gestured vaguely at your bandaged side. "For... you know. Catching me."

He didn't smile. He didn't laugh it off. He just kept staring at you with that intense, unnerving focus. "How's Nami?" you asked, desperate to break the suffocating silence.

"She's fine," he said, his voice clipped. "The old witch doctor fixed her up. She's sleeping now."

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. "That's good. That's really good."

A heavy silence descended again, thick and uncomfortable. You could hear the wind howling outside, a lonely sound that matched the feeling growing in your chest. Luffy continued to watch you, his gaze unwavering.

"But you're not," he stated. It wasn't a question.

"I am now," you said, trying for a reassuring smile. It felt weak and brittle. "Thanks to you guys. And that doctor."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

The question was quiet, but it hit you with the force of a physical blow. You flinched, looking away from his piercing stare. You focused on a loose thread in the blanket, picking at it nervously. "It was nothing, Luffy. Just a scratch. It didn't matter. Nami was the one who needed help."

"A scratch?" He was on his feet in a single, fluid motion, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. He started to pace the small space, his movements tight and agitated, like a caged animal. "A scratch? You passed out! You were bleeding all over the place! You were burning up! Kureha said if you'd been out there any longer, you would have died!"

"She... she did?" Your voice was small. You hadn't realized it was that bad. You'd thought you were just toughing it out, being strong.

"Don't you 'she did' me!" he snapped, his voice rising. He stopped pacing and glared at you, his fists clenched at his sides. "I saw it, you know. After you fell. When I picked you up. Your shirt was all red and stuck to your skin. It was... it was horrible." His voice cracked on the last word, and he looked away, his jaw tight.

Shame, hot and suffocating, burned in your chest. You hadn't just been hiding a minor injury. You'd been hiding a life-threatening one, and you'd done it right under their noses.

"You lied to me," he said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper. He turned back to face you, and the raw hurt in his eyes was worse than any anger. "You looked me right in the eye and lied. I asked if you were okay, and you said you were fine."

"Luffy, I..." you started, but the words died in your throat. What could you say? That you were stupid? That you were arrogant enough to think you could handle a life-threatening infection on your own? That you were so terrified of being a burden that you were willing to die to avoid it?

"No!" he shouted, cutting you off. The sound echoed in the sterile room, making you flinch. "Don't you get it? I thought... for a second... when you fell... I thought I lost you." He took a shaky breath, the anger in his posture finally breaking, replaced by a profound, trembling vulnerability. He looked like a little boy who had just seen his whole world collapse.

"My dream is to be the King of the Pirates," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "I'm gonna find the One Piece. It's what I've always wanted. But how am I supposed to do that without you?"

Your breath hitched. "What? Luffy, that's crazy. You'd be fine. You have Zoro, and Sanji, and Nami, and Usopp..."

"They're my crew, too!" he yelled, his voice echoing with a desperation that tore at your heart. "You're all my crew! Don't you get it? It's not just about me! It's about all of us! It's about us getting there, together!" He was in front of you in an instant, his hands gripping the metal rails of your bed, his face so close you could see the tears welling in his eyes, threatening to spill over.

"You're part of this!" he continued, his voice a fierce, passionate whisper. "You're part of my dream! You're... you're important! I can't be Pirate King if my crew isn't with me. I can't do it without you. I can't see it happening without you."

The dam broke. A single tear escaped your eye and traced a hot path down your cheek. You stared at him, truly seeing him for the first time since you woke up. This wasn't just your captain throwing a tantrum because he'd been kept in the dark. This was Luffy, your Luffy, laying his soul bare. He wasn't just talking about a title or a treasure. He was talking about his family. He was talking about you.

"Don't you ever, ever do that again," he demanded, his voice thick with unshed tears. "Don't you ever hide something like that from me. If you're hurt, you tell me. If you're sick, you tell me. If you're sad, you tell me! We're a crew. We fix things together. Even you. Especially you."

You couldn't speak. A sob caught in your throat, and more tears followed the first. You reached out with a trembling hand, placing it over his where it gripped the bedrail. His skin was warm, his grip tight.

"Okay," you whispered, the word barely audible. "Okay, Luffy. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He seemed to deflate, all the furious energy draining out of him in a rush. He slumped back into the chair, his head in his hands. For a long moment, the only sounds were your quiet sobs and the howl of the wind outside. Then, you heard a soft, shuddering sigh. He looked up, his face tear-streaked but calmer. A small, watery smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Good," he said softly. "Because I need you there when I'm king. Who else is gonna help me find the best meat on every island?"

You couldn't help but let out a watery laugh, the sound shaky but real. "I wouldn't miss it for the world, Captain."

His grin returned, wide and blinding and full of the light you thought you'd lost forever. He reached out and gently squeezed your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. In that moment, you knew with absolute certainty that you had been a fool. You hadn't been protecting the crew by hiding your injury; you had been endangering the very thing you were trying to protect: their future. Your future.

The next few days were a blur of quiet recovery and gentle care. Dr. Kureha, despite her gruff exterior and incessant demands for money, was a miracle worker. She changed your bandages with practiced efficiency, her sharp eyes missing nothing.

"You're lucky, girl," she grumbled on the second day, prodding the edges of the now-healing wound. "Another day, two at most, and that poison would've reached your heart. Your captain's right to be angry. Stupidity like that can get a whole crew killed."

You just nodded, too ashamed to argue. She was right, of course.

Luffy barely left your side. He was a constant, comforting presence. He didn't talk much about the mountain or your deception, but he made his feelings known in other ways. He'd appear with steaming bowls of soup from the castle kitchen, insisting you eat every drop. He'd try to braid your hair, getting his fingers hopelessly tangled until you were both laughing. He'd sit by your bed and tell you stories, his voice a low, soothing rumble that made you feel safe.

One afternoon, as you were starting to feel strong enough to sit up for more than a few minutes, the door to your room creaked open. It was Nami, wrapped in a thick blanket, looking pale but infinitely better than she had on the mountain.

"Hey," she said softly, a small, hesitant smile on her face.

"Hey, yourself," you replied, your own smile genuine. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I was hit by a giant, frozen snowball," she said, shuffling into the room and sinking into the chair Luffy had just vacated. "But Kureha says I'll be fine." Her gaze drifted to your side, to the thick bandage still taped to your skin. "I heard... about what happened."

You looked down at your hands, a fresh wave of shame washing over you. "Yeah."

"Why didn't you say anything?" she asked, her voice gentle, not accusatory. "We would have helped you. We would have carried you. Anything."

"I know," you whispered, your throat tight. "I just... I didn't want to slow us down. You were so sick, Nami. That was all that mattered. I thought I could handle it."

She reached out and placed her hand over yours, her touch warm. "We're a crew," she said, echoing Luffy's words. "There is no 'slow us down.' There's only 'us.' If one of us is hurting, we all hurt. If one of us is falling, we all reach out to catch them. That's how this works. That's how we work."

Tears pricked at your eyes again. "I get it now," you said, your voice thick with emotion. "I really do."

She gave your hand a final squeeze before letting go. "Good. Because you scared us. You scared Luffy a lot." She paused, a mischievous glint in her eye. "And you owe me big time for making me feel guilty while you were the one dying."

You laughed, a real, hearty laugh that didn't hurt your side. "Deal. I'll navigate us to the richest island I can find. My treat."

"Promise?" she asked, her eyes twinkling.

"Promise."

The day you were finally discharged was a celebration. The newly christened Tony Tony Chopper, the island's adorable and fiercely loyal doctor, fussed over you, making you promise to take it easy. Sanji prepared a feast fit for a king on the deck of the now-repaired Going Merry, declaring it a "Welcome Back to the Land of the Living" party in your honor.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in brilliant shades of orange and purple, you found yourself leaning against the railing, watching the island shrink behind you. The cold wind was gone, replaced by the gentle, salty breeze of the open sea. It felt like coming home.

A familiar weight settled on your head as Luffy’s straw hat was placed there, covering your hair like a protective blanket.

"Hey," he said, leaning against the railing beside you.

"Hey," you replied, tilting your head back to look at him. His grin was in place, his eyes bright with the reflection of the setting sun.

"You're wearing my hat," he observed.

"You put it there," you pointed out.

"I know," he said, his smile softening. "It looks good on you."

You stood in comfortable silence for a while, watching the waves. The pain in your side was a dull memory, a reminder of a lesson hard-learned.

"Luffy?" you said quietly.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you," you said. "For everything. For being angry, and for being scared, and for not giving up on me."

He turned to look at you, his expression serious for a moment. "I'd never give up on you," he said, his voice firm and absolute. "You're my nakama. I'd fight a hundred marine admirals for you. I'd climb a thousand mountains. I'd do anything."

He reached out and took your hand, his fingers lacing with yours. "But next time," he added, his usual goofy grin returning, "you have to promise to tell me if you get a boo-boo. Even a small one."

You laughed, squeezing his hand. "I promise. No more secrets."

He beamed, his grin so wide it seemed to take up his entire face. He squeezed your hand one last time before letting go, turning to face the vast, endless expanse of the ocean before you. He took a deep breath, his chest swelling with an unspoken joy, and then he did what he always did when he was truly, deeply happy: he stretched his arms out wide, as if to embrace the whole world.

"Alright!" he bellowed, his voice carrying across the deck, loud enough to wake Chopper in the infirmary. "Let's get this party started! Sanji, where's the meat?!"

Sanji, who had been meticulously arranging a platter of seared steaks, immediately straightened up, a heart-shaped puff of smoke curling from his lips. "Right away, Captain! For my beautiful, recovered navigator, and for our strong-willed warrior who has returned to us, only the finest!"

Usopp, who was tinkering with something on the other side of the deck, looked up and grinned. "About time! I was about to start without you! I've got to tell you all about the amazing, death-defying feats I performed while you were all incapacitated! I single-handedly fought off a tribe of giant, carnivorous snow rabbits with nothing but my bare hands and a slingshot!"

Zoro, who was sleeping against the mast, cracked one eye open. "Liar. You were hiding behind a rock the whole time."

"Was not!" Usopp shot back, puffing out his chest.

You laughed, the sound light and free. It felt good. It felt right. This was your family. This chaotic, loud, loving group of misfits was your home. The thought of almost losing this, of almost leaving them behind because of your own foolish pride, sent a shiver down your spine. You pulled Luffy's hat down a little more firmly on your head, as if anchoring yourself to him, to this moment.

Luffy bounded over to the table, his eyes already glued to the mountain of food. He grabbed a whole leg of some roasted bird and took a massive bite, his cheeks puffing out. He looked over at you, his mouth full, and gestured with the leg for you to come join him.

You pushed yourself off the railing, your body still a little stiff but no longer weak. As you walked towards the table, you passed Nami, who was watching you with a soft, knowing smile.

"See?" she said quietly, just for you to hear. "This is much better than almost dying on a frozen mountain alone."

You nodded, your heart swelling with gratitude. "Yeah. It is."

You took a seat next to Luffy, who immediately shoved a plate piled high with food in front of you. "Eat!" he commanded, his mouth still full. "You're still too skinny!"

You rolled your eyes but picked up a fork, your appetite returning with a vengeance. The food was incredible, as always. Sanji had outdone himself. The flavors exploded on your tongue—savory meat, sweet roasted vegetables, fresh, warm bread. It was the taste of life, of celebration.

As you ate, you watched your crew. Zoro was now awake, polishing his swords with a contented grunt. Usopp was animatedly telling Chopper, who had woken up and joined the party, a wildly exaggerated version of their journey up the mountain. Sanji was fussing over Nami, making sure her cup was always full. And Luffy... Luffy was eating, laughing, and planning their next adventure, all at the same time.

He caught you watching him and paused, a piece of meat halfway to his mouth. He grinned, a genuine, unburdened grin that reached his eyes. He raised his piece of meat in a toast. You smiled back and raised your own fork, clinking it against his imaginary glass.

In that moment, under the vast, star-dusted sky, with the taste of Sanji's cooking on your tongue and the sound of your crew's laughter in your ears, you understood. Being strong wasn't about hiding your weaknesses. It wasn't about never falling. It was about knowing that when you fell, there would be hands there to catch you. It was about trusting them enough to let them.

You were a Straw Hat Pirate. And you wouldn't have it any other way. The future stretched out before you, a grand, uncertain, and thrilling adventure. And you would be there for all of it, right beside your captain, ready to face whatever came next. Together.

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You were walking along the flooded alleyway. Each step carefully splashing against your stockings with every puddle you come across.

Your jacket was draped over your school bag, walking home in the rain would've been fine if you had an umbrella. Your entire body was drenched with rain water. The fog from the rain were surrounding your ankles, despite the winter uniform you were wearing, you were freezing.

Shivering with every step, you cover your bag with your body, not wanting the electronics in it to get any water damage.

You felt the rain grow harder on the ground, the wind flowing harsher against your hair, your jacket was flinging around, you were for sure getting sick tomorrow.

You looked around, searching for a building you could run into until the rain stopped. You eventually run into an alleyway, hoping the tarp between the two buildings were strong enough to handle the rain. Said buildings were locked, under construction.

You stood on the minimal space where it was dry. Rainwater dripping from your hair and clothes, right onto the floor. Your hands ran through your hair, brushing it out of your face.

A loud crash of thunder echoed throughout the sky above you, bouncing on each wall. The sound made you stumble back in surprise, the heels of your feet bumping into the boxes behind you. Before your could catch yourself, your back clashed with the dusty cardboard with a bang.

Sitting up, rubbing your soaked back.

You heard a soft noise, head whipping back so fast. Maybe it was a woosh, perhaps the rain?

Not quite. It was a meow.

A loud meow, frantic and shocked. You could make out that it was coming from beside you, buried deep within the scattered boxes. Quickly, your feet startled up, supporting yourself with an arm on the pile.

Standing up, you looked over and peeked through the cracks of the boxes. They were barely covered by the tarp. Your hands slowly moving the beige papers apart. Eyes squinting through the darkening sky.

Before you could reach your arm in, a small, black and white cat jumped out straight into your arms, claws extracting, digging deep into your stomach through your uniform, desperately clinging to the white blouse.

"Woah!" You yelled out, stumbling backwards, hands instinctively shooting up to catch him by his small torso. Hissing at the way the water on your uniform stung into the claw marks.

Landing on your back, you try to steady yourself, pressing your palms flat on the ground. Tightening your grip on the small creature's body. Catching your breath, you sat up, carrying his weight between your hands.

"Oh, you silly cat.." you sighed out, earning an angry meow in response, you were shivering on the dirty concrete floor. Small patters of rain hitting your face. That didn't bother you too much though, the only thing clouding your mind was how sick you were going to be tomorrow.

You were so deep in thought, you couldn't hear the footsteps behind you. Not until the small bits of rain seemed to stop, by the umbrella right over you. You looked up, face meeting directly with someone all to familiar with you.

Ren Amamiya, the cute boy in your class.

He's a bit weird, glasses always fogged up too easily, hair always messy and disheveled. The smart boy in your class that seemed to know every answer the teacher would throw at him. The boy everyone rumoured to be a delinquent.

The first few days you've seen him, you heard the rumours, the reports that he had beaten someone up when he was still living in his small country town.

A part of you believed in those whispers, the way he was quiet, silently watching, barely saying anything ever. You saw him hanging out with another known delinquent on his first day, you saw him arguing with Kamoshida during his second week.

You started to talk to him after Kamoshida admitted to all the horrific things he had done. You caught him looking at his bag, as if he was listening to it. A bit weird, but whatever.

You tapped him on his shoulder, s very startled look on his face when he jumped on the spot and turned back to you. You asked him, asked him about what happened since, you heard Kamoshida give him a suspension. You didn't accuse him of anything, god forbid you add onto the many dirty rumours about that was most definitely having a negative effect on him.

You only asked if he was okay.

That was a few months ago, right now, he was looking for Morgana, that titchy cat was running around all over the place. He completely forgot about him though, eyes only focusing on your figure running into the alleyway. He made his way, umbrella clutched in his hand, speeding up a bit after the clattering sounds rang throughout his ears.

He peeked through the wall, seeing your figure on the floor, trembling, next to you, was that annoying, black and white cat that ran away hours ago. He groaned in frustration. Before making his way to you. Hovering his umbrella right above your head, he looks down to your sitting form, eyes meeting yours.

You give him a smile, sheepish and awkward, eyebrows lacing together in embarrassment as you felt your face heat up from the situation you were in right now; drenched from the rain, you probably looked insanely weird right now.

For a while, the both of you just looked at each other, breaths forming into a fog out of your nose, you could still feel the coldness surrounding you, but it somehow didn't hurt like it should. Almost like Ren's smile was enough to warm you up. Insanely cliche, but, true nonetheless.

You raised your hand, palms open, reaching for him, "help me up" you said with a smile. His lips form a returning one, before grabbing your hand and pulling you up. You stumbled a bit, reaching forward to grasp on his shoulders. Steadying yourself, ignoring the heavy thump thump thumps deep inside your chest.

An angry meow snapped the both of you back out of each other's gaze. His neck snapped towards the cat on the floor, glaring straight at the glasses wearing boy, as if they were having a mental arguement.

You looked between the two of them, wondering if Ren disliked cats. He didn't look like a dog person, if anything, he was the most cat person you've ever met.

You reached down, picking up the blue eyed cat. Earning a startled mewl from him. Gripping his small body, cuddling him closer to your chest.

"Be careful," he tells you casually, eyes still glaring at the feline creature in your arms. "He might have fleas." A twitch of a smirk briefly flickered on his face. Subverting his gaze to yours.

"I don't think so." You look down at the cat, who was reaching his arms out to Ren, claws out and feet flailing. "He looks clean, and well-groomed." The cat meowed in satisfaction, switching from struggling out of your grasp to rub his head to your chest and further snuggling up into you.

"Where are you headed?"He asked you, ignoring the jealousy bubbling up in his chest from how close that freaking cat was with you.

"Uhm.. I'm just waiting out until the rain stops." You chuckle awkwardly, earning a playful sigh in response. "You're going to get sick."

"I probably already am." You laughed out, coughing mid-sentence further emphasising your point.

"Let me walk you home." He reaches out to hand you your forgotten school bag that was on the floor. Wrapping your drenched jacket on his other arm. You quickly stop him, well, you try to.

"You don't have to, I'll hold it." You insist, trying to reach for your jacket. Not wanting to bother him further than you already were. Not to mention you were still holding the cat that he (probably?) hates.

"It's okay." He reassures you, squeezing out the rainwater that's been soaking through your jacket for the past thirty minutes. Water dripping down with harsh splatters on the concrete ground.

"Let me help you out." He smiles. The light in his eyes practically reflecting from his glasses.

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The walk to your apartment wasn't as long as you had hoped it was. You tried walking slowly, wanting to spend more time talking with the man closely beside you. The distance (or lack thereof) making you fumble in your words every so often.

You didn't forget about the cat in your arms either, the occasional meow and small licks to your hand would resound from him. Though, sometimes while Ren would be talking, he'd earn a meow, usually a loud one. Ren responding with his witty quips, he'd speak to you, but it was clearly directed to the cat by your chest. It was, strange, to say the least.

"Do you.. know this cat?" You couldn't help but ask, the amount of passive aggression directed towards the cute cat was odd. Much like an owner with their pet of ten years.

"He likes to bother me whenever I'm in LeBlanc." He says, looking straight ahead, ignoring the angry grunts from the creature in your arms. You nodded, hands absentmindedly scratching his small head.

"I call him Morgana, by the way." He's still walking, hand tilting the umbrella further down your side, effectively covering you more than he was.

"Morgana.." you repeated, before chuckling lightly to yourself, "what an interesting name, how'd you come up with it?"

"It sorta just came to me."

Before you knew it, you were already by the front door of your apartment. Fumbling with your keys for a bit, trying to find an excuse to get him to come inside. Ultimately you tried to tell him that he should just wait out the rain, besides, he had a cat to take care of.

You tossed your bag to the floor, directing Ren to leave your jacket on your bathtub to let it dry.

"I'd stay if Sojiro wasn't so strict on my curfews." He said in annoyance. You knew about Sojiro, he's the tired old guy that owns the cafe Ren stayed at. You wondered if he knew about the cat at all.

"He doesn't"

Oops, maybe you said that one out loud. You nodded in response.

".. Do you mind if you took care of him for a while?" He asks you, you paused for a second, glancing at him over your shoulder. He was trusting you with such a thing?

"Sure, but.." you trailed off, unsure how to word it, you weren't that close with him. Taking care of (his) cat is a bit.. intimate. Something that really close friends do. Much like his blonde friends.

"Do you trust me with him?" Such a weird way to phrase it. He only smiled at you, how he didn't look at you weirdly was a miracle. You could've said it in a better way but the sentiment remains. He trusts you.

"I'll get going." He tells you before making his way to your front door. You noticed how Morgana stayed perched on top of your kitchen counter, glaring daggers at Ren while he narrows his eyes in annoyance.

Ren glanced back at you, offering a "see you on Monday." His eyes flicker to Morgana's after he let out a meow. As if he could understand the little cat. Very silly.

You waved him goodbye, leaving you with the cat that was slowly making his way to you, jumping on each each chair like a makeshift path to you.

You let out your hand, letting him snuggle up between your fingers. You let him do his thing, making him comfortable. Before straightening up on your spot, grabbing him by his torso once again. Lifting him up arms length in front of you.

"You need a bath." He looked at you, offended it seems. He made a noise in protest as you made your way to the bathroom.

"Is it true that cats hate water?" You murmured, mostly to yourself. "Well, I've never seen a cat in water, so.." you're not sure if you were talking to yourself or to the cat. Perhaps both.

You took a small bucket from the cabinet underneath your sink, placing it in your bathtub and filling it up halfway with water. All the while Morgana was looking up at you, as if he was listening to what you had to say.

"Did he get you the bandana too?" You referred to the yellow bandana tied around his neck. You're not sure how well the yellow matched with his vibrant blue eyes-- which admittedly, you've never seen in a cat-- had matched with each other. It was very unique, to say the least. Almost like it his signature colour.

You grab him again, slowly lowering him inside the bucket or water. You scooped the water onto his back, rubbing gently.

"Ren looks at you like he understands you." Not sure what warranted that. Morgana seemed to think the same, his head whipping from observing your bathroom to your face. "He looks at me like he understands me, too." You smile softly to yourself.

He's helped you more than once, whether it be from Kamoshida's advances, or from Kawakami's judgemental stares from how you were hanging out with not one, but two delinquents. Or when you started hanging out with his entire group of so-called 'misfits.'

You were one of them, obviously. A misfit, as people would call it. You've been frequently let down by the many adults around you, by the system, by society, by almost everyone. 'Grateful' isn't even close enough of a word to express your feelings towards Ren, for understanding you, for looking through your past and knowing you for you.

Much like you've done with him, the many rumours surrounding him, the whispers, you didn't pay attention to them. Since you decided to get to know him; figure out his personality for himself.

"Ren's a cute guy, I wonder how he came to domesticate you." Perhaps the cat was also another misunderstood fella Ren had just decided to befriend. "I guess he didn't really domesticate you, you just kinda stuck around, huh?"

Speaking of, Morgana was just looking at you expectingly throughout your rambling. Head tilted to the side, while he closes his eyes each time you gently scrub the fur on his head. Maybe he was listening, or maybe he just looked at everyone like that.

"I wish I could help him out, y'know? It seems like he's going through a lot." This earned a meow from the cat below you, like he was agreeing with you. Your movements slow down, deep in thought.

"I'll let you in on a secret." You say playfully, words coming out of your mouth before you thought too much about it. "I kinda like that guy." Your lips twitch into a smirk, grabbing a sponge and scrubbing his small figure.

He looks up at you almost to quickly, ears now perking up, "woah!" You laugh out, "I guess cats do understand people after all." A purr echoed from the back of his throat as his eyes close.

You sighed, finding yourself so weirdly pathetic for confiding in a cat about your feelings for his... owner? Friend? Whatever Ren was to the cat, you have feelings for him.

"He's just so mysterious." You exclaim with another laugh, as if you were a teenager gossiping with her friends at the playground. "But he's also really caring, it's like I've known him for a while. It's a shame that he probably doesn't feel the same." You let out a pitiful laugh.

You pick him up again, out of the bucket of water and onto the rug. Grabbing a fresh towel, rubbing up and down his little cat body. Drying him off, you cradle him in your arms, grabbing his face with both of your hands and squeezing slightly. He just looks so cute!

Making your way to the couch, you placed him on the cushions, to which he immediately drops down to the floor and shakes his body. You go to your kitchen, looking through your cabinets, looking for something cat-friendly.

There's someone as sweet as her actually likes Ren Morgana wonders, observing you search around the kitchen. Oh how he wishes you could understand him, there are so many questions for you. Why do you like Ren? What has he done? He isn't even that charming.

And sure, maybe he's a just a bit pissy because Ren took the attention of Lady Ann, but that's neither here nor there.

At least he has something to tease him about.

The rest of the night consisted of you feeding him (after googling foods that are safe for cats to eat), ending the night with him snuggled up between your arms, falling into a deep slumber.

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The weekend had passed. Morgana had left your apartment and made his way back to Cafe LeBlanc. Your chest felt lighter after ranting to the poor cat, you had been avoiding any realisation of your feelings for Ren, not having anyone to tell. You were glad you let it out.

Though today felt like... Ren was treating you different. Not bad different, quite the opposite in fact. It was anything you've ever wanted. He was initiating conversations with you, holding your gaze whenever you'd accidentally make eye contact with him. He was more touchy too, maybe on accident, maybe not. Hands brushing yours whenever he found himself standing right next to you.

"Hey" he approached you after school, you were standing in front of your locker, changing out your shoes. You look up at him, noticing the way there was a slight pink on his face.

"Let's grab something to eat." He says before you could greet him back. You stare at him for a while, brain stuttering, unsure what to say. You only nodded, in fear of saying something wrong.

He smiles at you, lending out a hand, helping you carry your school bag. He nudges his head toward the exit. You walked next to him, close enough you could hold his hand.

"Morgana got home cleaner than he usually was." He started. "Thanks for taking care of him."

You smile, waving him off, "don't worry about it, he's a nice cat."

He laughs at your statement, yeah right.

"And..." he stops right next to you, facing you, the pink tint never fading from his face.

"Thanks for helping me out."

Help him out.. where have you heard that before?

"Of course, I feel like you understand me, y'know?" Your cheeks might as well match his, with how flustered you were. You wondered, where did this side of him suddenly come from?

"I'd love to get to know you even more." His words made your heart stutter.

"Really? Why so sudden?" You laugh nervously.

"Well.. it's simple really," he's impossibly closer to you now. Obviously he won't let you know that the second Morgana returned home, he spilled all the beans about what you told him. All giggly and teasing.

"She thinks you won't return her feelings." He told him, and, well, Ren couldn't have you think like that

"I just, like you."

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Most of his classmates were too afraid to ask Akira about it, but your classmates had no fear (or tact). The second lunch started, a crowd of your classmates surrounded your desk and demanded answers.

You shrugged them off. What explanation did you owe them? You and Akira liked each other despite clashing styles. Though, those styles didn’t clash as much as your classmates seemed to think.

Akira also liked cutesy things. He liked you, didn’t he? He may not show it as outwardly as you did, but there were signs if people looked hard enough; Akira’s school bag had a tiny Hachiware keychain hanging off of it that matched the Chiikawa one on yours.

His notebook was covered in stickers and doodles that probably  didn’t come from him. You loved to scribble in the margins or any open space with your gel pens, writing sweet notes or crude drawings of Morgana.

He also showed up to school sometimes with painted nails. The surprising part was that his nails were always slightly messier than the ones you showed up with— when you painted each other’s nails, Akira had a much steadier hand.

You weren’t defined by your aesthetic, either. You had spent years trying to get away with violating Shujin’s rather strict dresscode. The first time you interacted with Makoto was when she scolded you over your shirt being the only part of the uniform you were actually wearing. You really didn’t care for the black and red plaid patterned bottoms you were supposed to wear.

Your skill of making keychains and bracelets also doubled as a general craft skill, especially useful in Mementos. You, like Akira, could also be crafting pipe bombs at your desk when you were bored in class!

Akira’s reputation meant that, even though most people were definitely weirded out by your relationship, they didn’t bother you about it. Still, people could be cruel. You and Akira were talking near the front entrance in the morning when some of your classmates passed by. They scoffed, mumbling something about how strange your relationship was.

Akira initially ignored the comment, but noticed that (Name) pouted and watched their classmates walk away. He slid his hand across (Name)’s upper back, rubbing gentle circles into the fabric of their top. “Don’t listen to them,” he said.

(Name) sighed, leaning into Akira’s touch until their body was against his side and Akira’s arm was around their shoulder. “I try not to. But, it’s so annoying. Why do people think we’re that different from each other?”

Hoping no one in the student council would appear to yell at him about the PDA rules, Akira pressed a chaste kiss to (Name)’s temple. “They’re not paying enough attention.”

A quiet giggle left (Name)’s lips, but Akira could still see a somber twinge to their expression. He thought for a moment, then tapped their shoulder. “Hey, my hair is getting kind of annoying. Could I have one of your hair clips?”

Sparkles poured into (Name)’s eyes at the proposition. They dove into their bag and searched until they found one of their My Melody hair clips and promptly clipped a portion of Akira’s bangs out of his face. (Name)’s hand slipped down to Akira’s cheek, looking at their handiwork proudly.

“Does that help?” (Name) grinned, already knowing the answer.

“It’s perfect.”